


Beneath The Kyber Tree

by Dalzo



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Medieval, F/M, GoT vibes, Reylo AU Week, UST, it is canon, they fight bc they want to fuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-07-01 12:45:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15774390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dalzo/pseuds/Dalzo
Summary: “Yes,” the Knight admitted. “It is called honour, My Lady. Loyalty; to follow my given commands, without question; to swear my fealty to the King and carry out his orders. Though, you confuse the two. Honour and loyalty – as if such attributes could be a good thing in this world.” He scoffed and titled his head to the side, gaze moving upwards as a large gloved hand moved to pluck a leaf from the tree above. “It is a choice, Lady Kenobi; to do what is just or to do what is asked of me? Perhaps I am a coward. But I am no fool.”On the night of her betrothal, Lady Rey Kenobi escapes to the Kyber Tree with a disgraced Knight in tow





	Beneath The Kyber Tree

**Author's Note:**

> Just a lil' something I've cooked up for Reylo AU week -- FANTASY bc I miss GoT.

It was a cool summer’s night, a chill present in the breeze that whipped at her cheeks and irritated her misty eyes; a taste of autumn – though a _welcomed_ break from the overbearing heat that had loomed over the Capital for weeks, now.

The shadows shifted at the clearing, the stark red leaves of the _Kyber Tree_ rustling as the wind lifted. A shiver ran down her spine, though it _did_ not deter her actions.

The young maid, barefoot and blushing, carefully dipped her toes into the clear pools by the tree; watching as the leaves fell from their branches and drifted onto the surface, like a small, vibrant ship, off to set sail.

 

She _wished_ for a red ship of her own, one day; or any ship, of any colour, just big enough to carry her away to a far and foreign land.

The maiden laughed; airy and bitter, the night savoured the shrill sound.

She’d _never_ wished to leave, before.

 

The wind whispered again, quickly picking up to whistle a tuneless sound. This time, however, Rey did not shiver.

 

Her eyes rounded in on the reflection; the water of the shallow pool mirroring a sight she cared not to see. And yet, she looked on – met with a foreign face, painted with rouge and dressed in finery, she frowned.

She did not _like_ this look.

She did not recognise this girl. 

 

Without thinking, Rey roughly swiped at the water, the resounding splash a satisfying sound that seemed to drown out the distant music that pounded on, if only for a second.

She rested a wet palm into the soft earth beneath her; gripping the grass, closing her eyes, lifting her chin to bathe under the moonlight.

Peace. Tranquillity. Calm.

 

She inhaled deeply – though, the _corset_ they’d shoved her in made _that_ rather difficult – and took in the sweet scent of a lush atmosphere; rich with dark soil, vibrant with shades of green, with the full moon casting a luminescent glow around the whole clearing.

Rey opened her eyes.

Her gaze drifted to the roots beside her, black bark twining together beneath the ground, connected to a trunk that was tall and thick, branches heavy with the blood-red leaves, as dark as the rubies present in her choker, an ethereal glow within from the ever-present night sky. 

She turned, skirt shifting to allow her body to move forward, and exhaled.

 

She’d heard of tales, hushed through soft lips, as if they were traded secrets. She’d heard of the magic that stirred within the _Kyber Oaks,_ a power that few possessed.

 _A silly wives tale,_ she though, _nothing more._

Suddenly, the wind lashed in the opposite direction. The intricate braid she wore, reduced to wisps of hair as her heart began to thump loudly against her chest.

She _could not_ look away from the tree that mocked her so.

 

Her grasp in the ground loosened.

Her position eased, shifting her thighs to sit up straight.

Her head buzzed – though, _from_ the tree or nerves, she could not no.

 

Slowly, the young maiden inched forward – a curious glint in her hazel eyes, as a palm began to reach for the startling black trunk.

A cloud shifted over the iridescent orb that shined bright, fingers drifting further as a shadow overcame the clearing.

 

_SNAP._

 

A gasp was ripped from her chest, head quickly searching for the sight of the noise and—

 

 _“My Lady,”_ The words were uttered softly, like a prayer, _almost._ “Should you not be at the feast?”

 

Though he was but a shadow in the darkness, towering tall in the clearing like another tree, Rey _knew_ this man; all too well, she knew the low tone to his voice; the soft hum, from his wide chest.

She _detested_ it.

 

“I could ask you the same, _Ser.”_

 

Her eyes slowly moved back to the water in front, the shimmer of moonlight wavering atop the surface; a rather inviting sight, not that the Commander of the King’s person guard had sought her out.

 

“I do not like feasts.” He answered candidly and quietly. He was _never_ so quiet; she’d seen his terrible temper – had been a victim to it, once. She had _seen_ his brutal form hack at men in the practice yard. She had heard the shake to his voice as his anger boomed in council chamber. “They are too loud. Too many people, with their painted smiles and false-tongues.” 

 

“An interesting position you’ve chosen then, _Ser.”_ Rey snarked. “To be of the King’s personal guard and surround yourself with _everything_ you detest.”

 

A pause.

 

“It is a position of honour—”

 

The young maiden scoffed. “Honour.” She murmured. “What _honour_ do you possess?”

 

“Your distaste for me is _clear,_ My Lady—”

 

“And you are surprised?” She turned once more to discover that he had edged closer to the tree.

The cloud shifted, once more.

The moon came back, just as strong, and revealed the statue before her.

 

Her gaze trailed the hard lines of his face; the milky-complexion, the raven-black hair that fell in soft waves to his shoulders, a strong nose and dark, intense eyes that bored heavily into hers.

And the scar. A red, violent scar – as _vibrant_ as the Kyber Tree, a vicious gash splitting his face in two.

Looking at it should have _granted_ satisfaction. Pride. Even _joy,_ perhaps. Only, looking at the pain _she_ had afflicted did nothing _but_ remind her of the wound within her heart.

 

She took in a shuddering breath, eyes trained on his own; wishing she could decipher the vacant expression he presented.

 

“No.” He answered, after a time. “You have made it quite clear since the very beginning, _My Lady.”_

 

“That tends to happen when a creature in a mask hunts you down.”

 

“I do what is commanded of me—”

 

“Like a _dog_ on a leash!” She spat. “Too craven to do the _right thing,_ Ser.”

 

“Yes,” the Knight admitted. “It is called _honour,_ My Lady. Loyalty; to follow my given commands, without question; to swear my fealty to the King and carry out his orders. Though, you confuse the two. Honour and loyalty – as if such attributes could be a _good_ thing in this world.” He scoffed and titled his head to the side, gaze moving upwards as a large gloved hand moved to pluck a leaf from the tree above. “It is a choice, _Lady Kenobi_ ; to do _what_ is just or to do what is asked of me? Perhaps I _am_ a coward. But I am _no_ fool.”

 

She laughed bitterly.

 

“And the loyalty to your family?”

 

She watched, with a thrill of pleasure, as his jaw clamped shut, tense and tight as his eyes found hers once more. The pinching sound of his moleskin glove scrunching into a fist was a sweet, welcomed sound that drew a smirk from the young maiden.

It was short-lived, however, with the Commander stepping forward, advancing closer to her spot in the grass; a wicked glint to his mysterious gaze.

 

“Why are _you_ not presently attending the feast, _My Lady?”_ He pressed forward, advancing closer. “I was told it was _held_ in your name—”

 

“You were _told_ wrong.”

 

“ _Ah…”_ he breathed softly, a quirk lifting at his lips. “So there is to be no announcement, then?”

 

Her shoulders stiffened, chest rising slowly as she held her breath silently.

 

“The whispers are wrong.” He muttered lowly, accompanied with another step and a mocking smile. “The King is _not_ looking for a wife, then? Not after a young maid from a powerful bloodline; of age to bear children—” His eyes scanned down to her body before landing on her waist “—with a wide set of hips to battle the complications of childbirth?”

 

Her veins coursed hot, flushing with anger as he took a final step and knelt in front of her in all his glory; the stark black armour gleaming under the moonlight, curls shining as he rested his arms against his knee as if – as if greeting a Queen.

 

“No betrothal?”

 

Rey shuffled back in horror. “You were _sent_ here—”

 

“Aye—”

 

“To collect me; drag me back to that _hall_ —”

 

“The _King_ is waiting for you—”

 

“And accept my fate—”

 

“He is _already_ displeased, _My Lady—”_

 

“I will not!” She bellowed, voice echoing into the night. “I refuse to bend to his wish. He shall not have me, I _refuse.”_

 

Rey looked away swiftly. She did not _like_ to see a pitying gaze from a monster.

 

“You have no choice here.” His voice was soft and hot at her ear – she wondered, idly, when he’d _moved_ so close. “You are a prisoner.”

 

“And _you_ my captor.”  Rey breathed out shakily, watching as the cool air collected the steam. She hesitated, biting down hard on her bottom lip – and if _his_ gaze followed the action, she was unaware. “Would you ride me down if I ran, _Ser?”_

 

A small pause.

 

“If commanded of me, aye.” He said, after a time. “Though you would be brought back to the block.”

 

Another pause.

_“Good.”_

A gloved hand closed around her wrist. The hold was tight and _almost_ bruising – and turning to face the Commander was a shocking sight, indeed.

He had his head bowed down, looking to the ground; his _long,_ soft hair fell into his eyes, obscuring his face.

“You _will_ not run.” He growled.

 

With a scowl, she wretched her arm away and scrambled, back resting against the tree.

 

“Why should I not?” She asked fiercely, sliding up the tree as she stood, bark catching on the fabric and tearing as it snagged. _“You did._ From your _own_ family.”

 

He stood on clumsy feet just as Rey twirled, skirt billowing out with her motion as she rounded the tree.

 

“I have no family—” He huffed, footsteps heavy as he followed. “I _vowed_ to give up my name, my position, my _birthright_ ; to own no land, hold no wife and bear no children.”

 

Rey spoke boldly. “You have a mother.” A beat of hesitation. “You _had_ a father.” His footing faulted and she pushed on. “A name, a position of power, wealth – you _had_ it all. What possessed _you_ to give up your house; to _disown_ your family and join a side that _burns_ down villages, murders _innocents_ by the hundredths; to join an _army_ that takes women and girls alike – _treats_ them like property! What did Snoke offer you, Ser, to willingly become his lapdog—”

 

“You think the _Alderaanian_ army is any better?” He asked with a loud bitter tone, his pale face peeking ‘round the tree, armour ringing loudly as he advanced forward.

“You truly believe the men _you_ respect do not commit such sins?” A whisper, as he trapped her against the trunk; one gloved hand braced against the bark, resting above her shoulder. His gaze studied her face slowly before he cocked his head slightly, a quirk flicking at his soft, parted lips.

With Commander Ren standing so close, she could _see_ the intricate details to his long, prominent face. The slight hook to his nose, the plump feature to his pink lips, the flecks of brown and gold in his black eyes. For a second, she’d forgotten _how_ they’d reached this position.

 

“You think so _sweetly_ of a world that has mistreated you sorely. You condemn those who choose a side while choosing a side of your own – do you _not_ recognise the hypocrisy of your _very_ actions; do you not _see_ the greed present within Alderaan’s noblemen; the lust that bores deep within their soldiers and the disrespect they have for those ‘beneath’ them.”

 

His heady eyes gleamed as the clouds shifted and the moon reflected down on the pair; he leaned in a touch closer – the _heat_ radiating off his armoured body, the golden pommel of his sword glimmering as the light caught onto the shiny metal.

Her eyes warily travelled back to his face, a breath leaving her lips.

 

“I condemn _those_ who deserve it.” Rey replied calmly as the wind shifted through her hair.

 

He reached his other hand up slowly, fingers slightly grazing the side of her cheek oh-so-softly. He trailed patterns into her skin, making her shudder (though, she could not tell if it was discomfort or _something else)_ under his touch as they moved across her skin and tucked the wisps of hair behind an ear.

 

“Do you condemn me, _Lady Rey?”_

 

He captured her chin between his finger and thumb, tilting her head ever-so-slight to capture her wide gaze.

 

“You tell me, _Ser.”_ She said coolly, chest heaving with each deep breath gaze darting down quickly to his sheathed weapon, then to his boots, then to his dark entrancing eyes. “Does a _kinslayer_ deserve condemnation?”

 

He paused, the heat of his breath mingling with her own as his nose came within an inch of touching her own. The hand on the bark moved down, gently placed at her waist to keep her in place.

 

“Is that all I deserve?” He murmured lowly. “Your condemnation? Or do you wish for something else, _My Lady?”_

 

Rey did not _dare_ to second guess as the opportunity rose, slamming her foot down onto his boot – pushing away from the tree as he hissed and stepped back, grabbing the sword with two hands and wrenching it free. She spun around, holding the gleaming steel in a tight grip before her, levelled up at his chest.

 

“You _deserve_ nothing!” She cried, retreating away from his hulking figure. “Not my time. Not my _thoughts._ ” She listed breathily. _“Nothing.”_

 

He advanced, stumbling in his haste. “You _know_ so little.” He grunted through a clenched jaw, a sneer pulling at his features. “Yet, you _judge me_ so viciously.”

 

“I know _everything_ I need to know about you.” She spat, as he took a tentative step forward.

 

“You do?” He murmured, taking one last slow stride, the sword now _an inch_ away from poking his breastplate. “ _Ah, you do.”_

 

Her grip on the sword loosened at his words. 

 

“There’s that _look._ I know those eyes,” He murmured, soft and perhaps _awed,_ gaze narrowing in like a piercing dagger. “I _remember_ these eyes from that night – the _night_ I found you.” He paused and turned to the pool, taking in the sheen to the gentle flow, the reflecting globe of light that was the cause of his now-shadowed face; a dark side, presented to her fully.

Slowly, he returned.

“You _called_ me a monster.”

 

She blinked as the words resounded amongst the trees, carried over the water, became known to her ears and—

 

“You _are_ a monster.” A growl from sneering lips urged Commander Ren to step forward once more; towering and tall as the point of the sharp sword _screeched_ against his intricately-crafted breastplate; a fresh scratch present against the dark metal.

 

“Yes I am.” His mouth twisted, eyes shifting into slits – and before she could blink, his large hands came down on her wrist, twisting with a strength that did her no harm yet achieved his goal, all the same.

 

“You took me from my _home—”_ She suddenly screamed as he wrenched the sword free from her grip. “You _took_ everything—”

 

“I _did_ what I was told—”

 

“Murdered your _own_ father!” With two firm hands, she pushed at his chest, though his feet anchored into the soft grass below. “Your _own_ kin, dead at an order!”

 

“Why,” he asked lowly, dropping the sword at his side, one hand catching her wrists in a tight grip. “ _Why_ do you weep for a man you hardly knew?”

 

“Why _do you not_ weep for your father?”

 

His footsteps were quick, boots crushing against the soft earth as if he ruled the land, and soon enough he had her pinned to a tree, a knee coming in-between her legs; her skirts tangled with his leg and the bark, heart hammering in her chest so loudly with his nose so close to her own.

She took a second to contemplate her move; watching as his eyes moved down. To her parted lips, to her heaving chest, back to her eyes once more and—

 

Rey swiftly brought her leg up into his groin, watching the famed night groan through his pain, fumbling backwards. She struck once more, one hard push at his abdomen having the man flailing backwards.  She turned on her heel and began to run, only a warm hand that snaked around her ankle put a stop to that.

She yelped, the wrenching force pulling her down to the ground with a sudden weight washing over her.

 

“Stop struggling.” He commanded, barking the words as if he were talking to a solider or a child. “You will not avoid this. ‘Tis not worth the effort—”

 

“And what do you know, Ser?” She spat right back, teeth bared. “Have you challenged the king? Have you even attempted to break free of your restraints; of the leash attached to your neck—”

 

“You speak boldly.” His grip tightened on her wrists, further pinning her to the ground. The ends of his soft hair brushed her cheek ever-so-gently, leather gloves pinching at the movement of his fingers. “Your words could spite me; turn me into the monster you say I am.”

 

She thrusted up into him, though the effort was wasted. He was so much stronger; though, she was smarter.

 

“And soil me for you master—”

 

“Not in that way, _never in that way.”_

 

“And I should trust your word? The word of a man who turned on his family?”

 

His grip loosened. He reclined, just slightly. Rey grinned on the inside.

 

It took only a matter of seconds to flick them over, her forearm pressing hard into his own two, raised high above his head, her leg splayed against his own, into his shin, straddling him down; effectively switching the positions. Only this time, with a dagger at his throat.

Her ankle stung, slightly; the sharp blade barely nicking against her skin but _enough_ to scratch through her stockings.

 

“You’re a fool, _Kylo Ren.”_ She muttered darkly. “A boy, refusing to see the truth.” She leaned in closer. “Wake up. This city is not your home; these people are not your brothers; Snoke is not the right man to serve.”

 

“I _know_ this – I _know_ this,” He moaned. “Do not think that I am clueless, _My Lady._ ”

 

“Then why are you here?” She slowly sat up, removing the blade from his throat; her hands released their hold on his arms, moving to rest against his rising chestplate, thighs relaxing to simply straddle his waist.

He was free to move. Yet, he made no inclination of rising to his feet.

 

“I am on my own. I have _condemned_ myself to a life of solitude. I _must_ honour the vow I pledged the day I donned this cloak.” His eyes travelled up her neck, past her eyes, flicking through the thick branches and leaves of the trees surround the two, and then to the stars.

The shadows danced across his face, as clouds dressed the moon in darkness.

Rey sat there, studying the quirks to his expression atop the warmth of his body.

“There is no place for me but here; if a go, where will I be? Alone – _everywhere,_ always.”

 

Like a whispering hymn, the wind flowed through the clearing; the rustle of the Kyber leaves above, soothing the ache deep within her heart.

 

“You’re not alone.” She finally said; fiercely. “We could leave. Together.”

 

His eyes were soft when regarding, before glancing to the swirling pools beside them. “I do not understand you. You were intent on killing me—”

 

“No, _no,_ I – I know there is good in you. I know of your desire to leave; I _feel_ it inside you.” Her lips paused. “ _Ben.”_

 

He shifted under her, at the foreign name; lips parting as he stared, eyes wide with wonder and—

She fell to her backside, softly, as he stood to height with haste.

 

“I shall not tell the King of our meeting; you can not be found.” He murmured quickly, the sound of buckles unclasping rising through the air. “Though, I wouldn’t stay out too long; he has a temper, _My Lady,_ and it is cold out tonight.”

 

Something warm and soft was draped around her shoulders. Rey could only pull at the soft material and wrap it tightly around her shoulders, pulling it close to her chest.

 

She watched, enraptured, as the knight left as soon as he came; his figure a stark shadow against the full moon, gradually decreasing until he turned out of sight.

 

She did not _predict_ to miss the clunk of his armour, the soft drum to his heavy boots, the dark eyes that haunted her so.

She did, though. The trees swaying in the wind, the red leaf that drifted in the water, the ever-rising moon and twinkling stars; the company of solitude, _she wondered idly,_ as well as the own potent voice that whispered in her head.

Who _was_ Kylo Ren?

 

The man who _gave_ her his sable cloak. The man who pinned her to the ground and threatened to deliver her to the King like a possession. The man who was _just_ as broken as she; searching for the light in a world so dark.

Though, _perhaps,_ she was the only one searching.

Had he given up hope?

 

Eventually, she left the clearing. She did not return to the feast, instead choosing the safety of her chambers; she did not wish to face Snoke’s wrath, that night.

The walk was silent, despite the music that roared from the hall, the cloak still wrapped around her shoulders like a weight that could not be shaken; his own very presence, forever at her side.

She barred the door behind her, once reaching the room and—

 

Her heart stopped. Her breath left her. Her eyes glanced down to the parchment she’d stepped on.

 

With a shaking hand, she plucked up the note, unfolding the crinkled parchment with searching eyes.

_Meet me beneath the Kyber Tree, at dawn._

She smiled.

Perhaps hope wasn’t lost.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, Kyber Trees are totally weirwoods and are PRETTY much the only fantasy element of this... Don't @ me lmao
> 
> Cheers for reading; feedback feeds my soul. Also, might continue this, who knows -- it could go in some direction, maybe.  
> For an update on that, if you're interested, follow me on tumblr @reyloner 
> 
> Cheers X


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